


An Expensive Fantasy

by All_the_damned_vampires



Series: Retail Therapy [1]
Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Asphyxiation, BDSM Scene, Biting, Bondage, Caning, Cock & Ball Torture, Crying, Cutting, Dominance, Gas Masks, Handcuffs, M/M, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Paddling, Rape Aftermath, Rape Fantasy, Vibrators
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-19
Updated: 2015-03-19
Packaged: 2018-03-18 15:08:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 7
Words: 7,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3574220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/All_the_damned_vampires/pseuds/All_the_damned_vampires
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>From the 2015 SPN Masquerade prompt:<br/>Jensen goes to a club/agency where you tell them any kink you have and they provide you with exactly what you ask for. Jensen asks for a man, tied up, blindfolded, gaged, maybe tied down to one of those sex benches and his big kink is he wants to "rape" the man. He asks for a big man, because, Jensen had always felt he was too pretty and owning a big man like this, is a complete turn on for him. He asks for them to find someone who will play along i.e. struggle, cry, try to escape while they are having the sex. Jensen likes to play rough, maybe slapping, biting, scratches. Jared, of course, is this person they provide for Jensen. EXCEPT, Jared is not a willing participant at all, he's been kidnapped off the street, tied up, blindfolded, all that jazz and is going to be actually raped. </p><p>Either during sex or after, Jensen finds out that Jared isn't a willing participant in any of this. Up to author whether he feels any regret or not. He helps Jared and apologizes to him. But even he can't deny that this was the best fuck of his life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It's just as they promised.  
  
Two rough-faced goons throw open the door to the room, dragging in a struggling, shouting young man. Through the two-way glass, Jensen can see that he's tall, well built, a powerful, formidable specimen. He's got several inches on both of the thugs strong-arming him into the room, and he's giving them quite a struggle. He's big and strong and despite the distress on his face, strikingly handsome.  
  
Jensen almost presses his nose to the glass window in anticipation as his beautiful prize takes a swing at the brute trying to handcuff his arms behind his back. The strike is fierce, but misses by inches and Jensen squints behind his wire-rim glasses, taking in the man's glazed eyes. Drugged. This isn't what he wanted. 

  
And Jensen has always been very particular in his requirements.

  
Before he can even open his mouth to complain, his host Mark smiles slickly and says, “It’s short acting. He won't be under when you're in the room with him. You asked for a big guy and even two against one he's giving my boys a workout."  
  
Mollified, Jensen leans back and focuses in on the show. Mark’s toughs have managed to cuff the man's hands behind his back and Thug Number One is pressing up on the cuffs, putting painful tension on the man's shoulder joints. Thug Number Two is brandishing a knife.

It's delicious.  
  
Even drugged, Jensen's tall man goes still when his eyes catch the gleam of the knife. He trembles as the knife drifts down and across his body, cutting away the dull plaid shirt and dark jeans he is wearing. His body twitches once, twice, three times and as the cloth is pulled aside and so much smooth brown skin is revealed, Jensen sees minute blooms of red on the man's otherwise perfect flesh. Tiny nicks and scrapes.  
  
The thug with the knife slides it closed and into his pocket. He steps behind the tall man and threads a meaty hand through his long, shaggy hair, wrenching his head back.  
  
"Did we deliver?" Mark asks idly, toying with the diamond clasp on his silk tie.  
  
"Yes," Jensen whispers hoarsely.  
  
"Then appreciate your prize, your victim," Mark tells him. "This was an expensive fantasy to procure. Your requirements were...extensive. Look at him. Is he not what you wanted?"  
  
Jensen lets his eyes linger over his prize, held immobile and on display. Long limbs packed leanly with powerful muscle. A sizable cock, dangling between those sexy legs. Tight, ridged abdomen, impressive pecs and powerful shoulders.  
  
A man bigger than Jensen. A man who could probably best him easily in a fair fight, pin him down and dominate him. A man now weak and at his mercy.  
  
It's everything Jensen ever wanted.  
  
Jensen lets his eyes drift farther up, licking his lips at the sight of sweat collecting at the hollow of the man's long neck, beading on his high forehead. For all his masculine features he's got a soft, trembling mouth, a pretty, pink flush to his cheeks, and dark, sloe eyes of some undetermined color.

In his own way, he might even be prettier than Jensen.  
  
"We have the equipment you requested. Would you like my men to do the honors, or would you like to direct them?"  
  
"I want to go in," Jensen says breathily. Mark is smirking but Jensen could care less.  What others think has never been of interest.  It’s taken a while to find just the right place, a house of procurement that could meet Jensen’s exacting demands and provide the experience he’s always craved.  Jensen’s a busy man and his tastes are…unique.

What Jensen wants now is to touch and stroke, to command and punish.  
  
"What's his name?" Jensen asks. He wants to call his pretty man by name. He's just an actor, paid to play victim for the evening, but tonight Jensen will pretend this giant is his personal slave.  
  
"His name is Jared."


	2. Chapter 2

His new pet is screaming.  
  
Jensen enters the room just as Mark's men drape a struggling Jared over a solid wood spanking bench. They're adjusting the straps as best they can, cursing and sweating, and Jared's getting in a few lucky strikes, legs flailing. Jensen pauses to admire the quivering of Jared's fine, upturned ass before strolling in a circle to observe Jared's sweaty, agonized face.  
  
Upon spotting him, Jared hollers louder. "Hey man, help me! Please help!" He starts to beg, plead, but perhaps something he sees in Jensen's eyes causes the words to shrivel and die in his throat. He squeezes his eyes shut, screams some more, and resumes his kicking.  
  
The screaming is lovely, and the room is soundproofed. Nevertheless, it's a bit too shrill for Jensen's taste. The noise is more distraction than appetizer. He loosens his tie from his neck, drags it away from his crisp button down shirt. Jared has been nicely restrained now, legs spread wide and cuffed, hands pinned behind that sculpted back and it's easy for Jensen to loop his dark, silky tie around that long, sweaty neck. Jensen wraps it snug from behind and then pulls. He knows exactly where the safest place on the throat is, where he can restrict air and not cause permanent damage.  
  
Jared's yowling is abruptly silenced, he hisses and gasps as his windpipe's compressed. A large freestanding mirror has thoughtfully been provided, and Jensen has a great view of Jared's tomato-red face, his gaping fish-mouth, his wide, panicked eyes. It's so beautiful it’s almost too much; Jensen doesn't want to release the tension on the tie. But Jared's eyes start to glaze and he's being paid to suffer, not to die. Jensen reluctantly lets the tie go slack.  
  
Jared's panting and gagging are the loudest sounds in the room. Jensen ties his tie in a snug, jaunty bow around Jared’s neck. It's one of his favorite props.   
  
"Jared," Jensen says and Jared turns a horrified gaze his way. "You can beg. You can cry. I want you to. I like it. But not too loud. It's obnoxious. You'll want to keep your voice modulated, unless you want me to stop your breathing again."  
  
"PLEASE! Please." Jared drops his voice the minute he sees Jensen start to reach for the tie. "You can just let me go. I won't tell anyone. Please."

This special moment is very dear to Jensen.  There’s work and obligations and keeping up appearances.  There’s the demanding bosses and the tedium of travel.  Convivial masks and trite pleasantries and dark needs restrained in the light of day.  But Jensen can push all that to the side, and simply be himself.  
  
"I've wanted this for a long time," Jensen murmurs. "My own private fantasy. I've paid a lot of money for this privilege, I want to thank you."  
  
"Help! HELP!" Jared starts to scream again. Jensen's almost annoyed at how dense his victim's being; before he reminds himself that he paid for maximum resistance. And also, he gets to play with the tie again.  
  
"You asked for it," Jensen reminds his pet, and then he gleefully grabs the length of silk in his hands and tugs.

It takes two more times with the tie before Jared stops screaming and settles down. He's now sobbing miserably, albeit as silently as possible, mouth a thin, miserable line.  
  
"Good pet," Jensen approves, because praise is always appreciated and Jared's wet, sad eyes lock on his face, like a misbehaving puppy desperate for approval.  
  
Jared opens his mouth as if he might beg again for release, then tightens his mouth back up fearfully.  
  
"Go ahead," Jensen says encouragingly. There's a soft leather chair up near the front of the bench, angled so that he and his pet can see each other. "I told you I like begging. Beg me to release you. Beg me for mercy."  
  
Trembling, Jared shakes his head quickly, mouth still closed shut.  
  
Now this is bothersome. Jensen was very clear with the agency about how much he likes begging and crying. The more tears the better. And Jared isn't following instructions. He's supposed to plead moderately but continually.  
  
Suddenly Jensen smiles. Of course! On the list of kinks Jensen was asked to make, he had listed "realism" as one of his top priorities. "Realism" and "maximum resistance." How foolish of him to expect Jared to fold so easily. If this was real Jared wouldn't know Jensen's desires.  
  
Jensen is suddenly overwhelmingly grateful. Jared has thrown himself whole-heartedly into his role.  There's no coy wink from his pet to ruin the fantasy, to dampen his mood. This is raw and real. Jared doesn't want to be punished and he doesn't want to give Jensen what he wants either. Jensen will just have to incentivize him.  
  
Jensen can't help but give Jared's tousled head a few gentle pets in gratitude. His hair is wet with sweat, cascading nearly down to his shoulders, the amber mane of a virile lion.   
  
"Naughty pet," Jensen scolds and yanks hard on Jared's lush hair. A quick gasp, but no cry. Jensen looks in the mirror. His pretty slave is biting his own lip, stifling his cry.  Defiant pet.  
  
Jensen walks to the teak armoire on the wall, opens the cabinet doors. There are a tasty variety of implements here, everything a sadist could desire. All the tools Jensen listed clearly on his requirements list, and some that are unexpected but pleasurable additions. Jensen selects a rattan cane. It gives a lingering welt, and can draw blood and scar if used too aggressively.  
  
Lucky for Jensen he also listed "permanent marks" on his must-have kink list.  
  
"Here's how it will go," Jensen intones, circling his prey. He tests the cane against his hand, wincing at the sharp report and lingering sting. Jared jumps a bit at the cracking sound, as much as he is able in his bonds. "You will beg for mercy. You will weep and moan. You will not hurt my ears by screaming. And you will not defy my will by being silent. If you scream, I will choke you. If you're too quiet I will beat you with the cane. Do you understand?"  
  
"Yes," Jared gasps quickly. Jensen chuckles. "So you are clever. Good to know. However, you won't be getting off that easily. Ten strikes for defying me earlier."  
  
There's a long pause and then Jared whispers. "Please don't."  
  
"Ten strikes." Jensen leans in close, staring into Jared's wet, hazel eyes. Jared drops his gaze first. Cowed. Dominated. A powerful thrill runs from Jensen’s head to the soles of his feet.  Owned.   
  
"And Jared, you should be calling me 'Master'.”

Ten strikes. And Jensen doesn't pull his punches. He's always been proud of his impact work, on the rare occasion he’s had time off of work to visit a club or contract a sex worker. He lays each blow down on nearly the same patch of skin. It doesn't look as pretty this way, one blur of red instead of neat pink and white lines, but it's more painful. His last strike draws a light trickle of blood.  
  
For his part, Jared moans and howls behind clenched teeth. It's the perfect combination of desperate sound and obedient control and Jensen is pleased.  
  
"Good boy," Jensen croons as he puts down the cane. Jared's ass has one long broad line of flaming red across the cheeks and Jensen strokes and squeezes the flesh, listening to Jared choke at the sensation. "Should you get a reward?"  
  
"Fuck you," Jared hisses, face wet with tears.  
  
"Now, now," Jensen scolds. "I don't care to be sworn at. You should apologize."  
  
Jared doesn't want to, that much his tormentor can tell. He's got a prideful, stubborn streak; one that Jensen will enjoy beating out of him. But Jared also doesn't want to be hurt again.  
  
"Sorry," Jared mumbles.  
  
"Sorry, 'Master.'"  
  
"Sorry, 'Master.'" And Jensen pretends he doesn't see the eye roll that Jared just can seem to resist giving.  
  
"Now, I'm going to hurt you tonight," Jensen says. "I'm going to hurt you a lot. But I'd like to give you a few rewards. Sweet moments amid the pain. But I'll let you decide, for now. Pleasure? Or more pain?"  
  
"Pleasure," Jared mutters resentfully.  
  
"Wrong answer," Jensen says merrily. "The correct answer is ‘whatever “Master” desires.’ You're not being such a good boy now."  
  
Jared glares at him. Then he opens his mouth and starts screaming.  
  
"Naughty, naughty," Jensen murmurs and he reaches happily for the ends of his tie.

His slave may be smart, but he’s too obstinate for his own good.


	3. Chapter 3

Jensen is riding high.  Jensen is flying.  He’s the king of top-space, master of the universe.

Jensen feels like a god.

Beneath him, below him, Jared, his supplicant, is crying a low, steady, helpless sound.  A broken sound.  It’s music to Jensen’s ears.

There’s never been a moment like this in Jensen’s life.  He’s always chafed at the rules in the clubs, the sub always calling the shots, safe, sane, consensual and boring, boring, boring.  This session with Jared may have been contracted and negotiated, but it feels unscripted.  Everything is heady and new.

Jensen’s already learning a lot about his defiant new slave.  Jared’s pain threshold is high; he grits his teeth and bears the brunt of what Jensen does to him with the various available instruments.  Jensen had switched from the cane to the paddle, sharp, whistling swings that bruised the inside of Jared’s thighs.  Jared’s hips jumped with each impact as he struggled in his bonds, completely unaware that from behind it had looked like he was offering himself to be mounted.  Tight, little ass swaying and jerking, just begging to be filled.

But he took it well.  And the beatings don’t seem to faze him.

Being bound, on the other hand, is freaking Jared the hell out.  He struggles anxiously in his straps and cuffs, neck craning as he struggles in his kneeling position.

And he really hates being choked.  Every time Jensen reaches for the tie, Jared honest to god whimpers.

For maximum effect, Jensen knows he should blindfold his pet.  Stretch his sweet lips with a rubber gag.  Maybe even a full face mask.  The more bonds the better, to heighten the helplessness and terror.

But the problem is that Jensen wants to see Jared’s gorgeous, frightened eyes, his trembling mouth.  He wants to see his face when he panics and loses all control.  He wants to see him lose that defiant edge as he gasps in fear.

He’s so pretty that way.

Jensen sits in his chair, king on his throne, and taps his finger against his lip. Thinking.  Planning.  On the bench, Jared’s sobs trail off, although his shoulders are still heaving.

“Please,” Jared whispers hoarsely.

“Shh,” Jensen says in annoyance. “I’m thinking. Be still. You can beg later.”

Inspiration strikes. Jensen goes to the cupboard and rummages around. But the item he’s seeking isn’t there.  Frowning, Jensen rings the buzzer by the door.

A few moments later Mark opens the door, smiling wide. “Everything going all right?”

“Yes.  But I need an item.  A gas mask.  Clear plastic face.  It isn’t in the armoire.”

“I’m so sorry,” Mark apologizes. “I’ll have my people get you one at once.  It wasn’t on your list, was it?”

“No,” Jensen says. “But I didn’t realize how much I’d want to see his face.”

Mark grins lasciviously and it suddenly rubs Jensen the wrong way. “Yes, he is beautiful, isn’t he?”

“Yes,” Jensen says gruffly.  He should probably watch his terse tone.  But he’s too dizzy with desire to modulate the way he speaks.  “Please get me my prop.  Quickly.”

After Mark leaves, Jensen returns to his chair and considers his victim.

“Please?” Jared asks hesitantly.

“Yes, go ahead.  Now’s fine.”

“Please.  I want to go home.  I’m not supposed to be here.  It’s all a mistake. Please let me go.  I won’t tell anyone, I promise.”

“You’re not going anywhere,” Jensen says, smiling. “But continue to ask, it’s stimulating.”

“What do you want?” Jared asks desperately. “I don’t have any money.”

“I have what I want,” Jensen soothes. “I have you.”

The door clicks open and one of the thugs sidles in, pressing the mask into Jensen’s hands.  Jensen examines it carefully, and then brings it around to Jared, placing it on the floor where Jared can easily see it.

“What is it?  What is that?” Jared whispers.  He’s already shivering.  It’s not an object that’s hard to misidentify.

“A gas mask,” Jensen explains. “But not attached to an oxygen tank.  When I place it on your face and cover the intake, you’ll only have a small amount of air.  You’ll struggle to breathe.  You’ll feel like you’re suffocating.”

“No.  No, no, no.  Please don’t.” Jared is finally crying openly, tears streaming down his cheeks.  Jensen brushes one onto his forefinger and lifts it to his lips. Salt and fear.  It tastes delicious.

Jared is sobbing hard, a jumble of words spilling out of his mouth, back heaving.  Jensen waits and strokes his back soothingly, letting him wear himself out.

“Remember what I said,” Jensen murmurs once Jared’s sobs have subsided. “Pleasure amid the pain.  I’m going to do something that feels good to you.  Then after, I’ll put the mask on your face.”

“No, please.”

“That’s not what you say, Jared,” Jensen scolds.

“Whatever pleases Master,” Jared blurts and Jensen thrills.  He’s finally gotten his pet to say it. “But please don’t.  I’m begging.”

“Keep begging,” Jensen encourages.

He’s heads back to the cupboard to get Jared’s reward.

“What is it?  What are you getting now?” Jared’s voice quavers.  He sounds weak and needy and Jensen loves it.

“It’s a surprise,” Jensen says, quickly deciding he wants to conceal it from Jared.  He slips the objects into the pocket of his slacks. Anticipation will only terrify his pet further. “Don’t you like surprises?”

“A surprise vacation sounds good right about now,” Jared whispers weakly and surprises Jensen into laughing.   If anything, the quick way his pet recovers his defiant wit is endearing.

A vacation.  This is Jensen’s first vacation in forever.  But he can see how it might not be the type of relaxation that suits many people’s tastes.

“If you’re suggesting it might be fun to torment you on a bearskin rug in front of a roaring fire, at some luxury ski lodge in Aspen, I have to agree with you.”

“Wasn’t exactly what I had in mind.”

“Pity.” Jensen runs his fingers up beautifully curved landscape of  his slave’s back.  Feels cooling sweat and twitching muscles under the pads of his fingertips. “Where are you hurting the most right now?”

“Other than my ass?” Jared mutters bitterly.

Jensen yanks up on Jared’s cuffed hands just to hear him grunt.

“Ow! Shit!”

“No swearing, please,” Jensen reminds him.

“Yeah, let’s remember our manners when we’re kidnapping and beating people.”

“Quite. Where do you hurt?  Answer honestly or I’m going to get a bigger paddle.”

“Neck.  Shoulders,” admits Jared grudgingly.  Then he gasps when Jensen takes his strong hands—calloused yet dexterous owing to Jensen’s work—and begins to knead the tight muscles of Jared’s shoulders and upper back.

“Oh God!”

“Feel good?”

“I’m sure taking the cuffs off would make me feel even better.”

Jensen laughs. “In a bit.  I’ll take them off in a bit, I promise.”

Jared asks hesitantly, “And then let me go?”

“No, Jared.  I’m not done with you.  I’m just going to turn you over so I can use the mask.”

“Please, please don’t!  Just let me go!”

“You know,” Jensen muses, still digging his fingers skillfully into Jared’s sore back, “You’re wasting a perfectly good massage worrying about what’s going to happen.  Let go of control.  You don’t have any anyway.  Let me take over.  Whatever I want to happen is going to happen anyway.  I mean I like the begging, but you should be begging me to rub harder or something.”

There’s a quiet pause and then Jared grumbles, “A little to the left.”

“You call that begging?”

“A little to the left if it pleases Master.”

“Eh, better.”

Jensen indulges himself, running his hands all over Jared’s back and shoulders, digging his thumbs in a quick line up his pet’s neck.  The man has a magnificent body—better than Jensen’s for all that the fast-paced excitement of his job keeps him fit—and those powerful muscles tied down and immobilized are intoxicating.  Jensen leans over and bites down on Jared’s bicep.

“Ow! Fuck!”

“Language, Jared.”

“You fucking bit me.”

Jensen admires the pink imprint of teeth on Jared’s arm.  Not hard enough to break the skin, but hard enough to leave a lingering mark.  He moves up to Jared’s shoulder and licks a stripe up to the junction between Jared’s neck and shoulder, then bites again.

“Ah! Stop!”

Jensen raises an eyebrow, then licks and bites the other side.  Jared gasps and jerks.

“I thought this was about making me feel good,” Jared babbles nervously.

“Those seem like happy sounds you’re making,” Jensen observes.  Following a hunch, he moves back and takes a look at Jared’s cock.  He’s swollen to half-hardness between his legs.

“I think you like this,” Jensen says smugly.

“I don’t.  Please stop.”

“Liar.” 

Jensen happily resumes his licking and biting, focusing on the sensitive area of Jared’s neck.  There’s the taste of salty sweat and flesh pungent and savory in his mouth. Below him Jared squirms and pants as Jensen makes a meal of him.

Jensen pulls off with one last long lick and kneels so that he’s looking at Jared’s flushed, reluctantly aroused face. His guilty, devastated hazel eyes. “You like me biting you.”

“No.  Stop, please.” But Jared’s eyes dart down to Jensen’s wet, swollen mouth.

“If I stop then we move on and I get the gas mask. Are you ready to move on?”

“No!”

“Then beg me.  Beg me to keep biting you.”

“Please keep biting me, Master,” Jared says hesitantly, tears trickling down his cheeks.

“Tell me where.”

“My…my neck.”

“Good pet.”  Jensen returns to the banquet of flesh beneath him, licking and biting.  He varies the tension in his bite from light to hard, testing his pet’s response.  Jared seems to respond best to medium pressure, but Jensen indulges in an occasional hard nip that actually breaks the skin. Under him and at his mercy, Jared moans and whimpers at the stimulation.

Jensen nibbles a line down Jared’s ribs, feeling the smooth skin twitch under his mouth, filing away the ticklish reaction for later.  His mouth traces over Jared’s damp spine, and down to the red, heated cheeks of his pet’s ass, licking and biting the welts.  Jared yelps.

Jensen removes his mouth from a particularly nasty welt with a wet pop.  He considers the bounty spread before him: Jared’s bruised and flushed ass cheeks, and the pink pucker in between.  He wets one finger and swirls it over Jared’s opening, watching Jared clench and twitch.  His pet’s hole is small and shy under his touch.

“Don’t.  Please don’t, man.  I’ll do other stuff, but don’t touch me there.”

“You know I asked for someone who could play the virgin,” Jensen says. “But I think they may have gotten me the real deal.  Are you a virgin, Jared?”

“What? No!”

“Oh, I don’t mean sex.  I’m sure you’ve had plenty of that, gorgeous as you are.  I mean, are you a virgin…here?” Jensen presses the tip of his finger inside.  Hot, tight resistance.

“Ow!”

“Please answer the question.”

“This is your fantasy,” Jared snarls helplessly. “You believe what you want.”

“Suit yourself,” Jensen says.  He’d like to know, honestly.  But then he realizes that he probably won’t get an honest response from Jared, an actor so skilled he keeps making Jensen forget this isn’t real.

“Look,” Jared says slowly. ”I’m usually not on the receiving end, if you know what I mean.”

“You top?”

“I top.”

This somehow makes it even more thrilling. Jensen can picture his pet lifting his lovers effortlessly, tossing them on the bed, covering them and pinning their wrists and giving it to them hard and fast. The beautiful idea of Jared, big and strong, dominating his partners in bed, laid low and subjugated, forced to submit something he’s never given before.

“Why did you tell me?” Jensen honestly wants to know.

Jared shrugs, as much as he’s able in his bonds.  His head hangs limply, gaze fixed on the floor.

“No matter.  This is going to feel good, I promise.”

Jensen pulls the prostate vibrator out of his pocket and lubes the device.  He slides it slowly into Jared’s resisting ass with one smooth push.

“Ow!”

“If you don’t clench up, it hurts less,” Jensen says absently, eyes avidly locked on where the vibrator is disappearing into Jared’s ass.

“I’ll remember that for the next time someone sticks something up my ass against my will.”

Jensen smiles and turns the remote to the slowest setting.  Beneath him, Jared’s hips and ass jerk and twitch with the stimulation. It’s so pretty.

“How does it feel?”

Jared is stubbornly silent, but his quivering hips tell volumes.

“Do I need to get the tie?”

“Good,” Jared blurts hurriedly. “Dammit, it feels good.  Please turn it off.  Please take it out.”

“You know, I’m starting to think you have a streak of self-loathing,” Jensen teases. “Just enjoy it.”

Jensen pockets the remote and clambers back up to suck and lick and bite at Jared’s neck.  Over the discreet humming of the vibrator, Jensen can hear Jared’s breathy sighs, his squeaks and grunts.  Jared begins to thrust his hips from the combination of sensations and the soft thump of his body against the bench adds to the carnal symphony.  Jensen doesn’t want it to end.

“Touch my cock,”” Jared begs suddenly. “I’m going crazy.  Touch my cock, please.”

“I think you’re ready,” Jensen muses and stands up, wiping off his puffy mouth.

“Wait…what?”

Jensen doesn’t answer.  He strolls to the door and pushes the buzzer.  Jared puts two and two together and begins to scream.


	4. Chapter 4

Even with his hands behind his back and a vibrator in his ass, Jared puts up one hell of a fight when they flip him.

He’s not drugged now, and although they do the restraints one limb at a time, one of Mark’s employees has a budding black eye before they get Jared onto his back.  Jared’s erection has flagged from fear and stress, lying limply against his thigh.

Jensen for his part stands back and observes.  He’s paying too much money to do the dirty work, and any chance Jared might get the better of him physically would just ruin the fantasy.

“Sonofabitchcocksuckermotherfuckingasshole.”

“I’m going to have to come up with a new consequence for swearing,” Jensen warns his pet, tapping a forefinger against his lip thoughtfully. “You’re in sore need of some self-control.”

“FUCK YOU! HELP! HELP!”

Jared’s on his back, legs in a ‘v’ and trussed to chains dangling from the ceiling.  Each wrist is now cuffed to each of his elbows, arms drawn across his chest, and he thumps his forearms impotently against his torso in anger.

Jensen selects a petite, leather flogger from the armoire.  Its small strands give a surprisingly intense sting.

“One slap with the flogger for every bad word you utter,” Jensen warns his pet.

“Oh, really?” Jared sneers.  He’s hiding his fear well, but the whites of his eyes, so much like a panicking stallion, give his terror away. “You’re going to FUCKING hit me with that ‘wittle’ FUCKING flogger?”

Jensen hits Jared’s dick twice in quick succession with the flogger, leather strands hissing through the air.  Then he waits: a few seconds for Jared to get his breath back, and then a few more for Jared to stop howling.

“Ow! Stop!  Please, I’m sorry!”

“Say ‘I’m sorry, Master’.”

“I’m sorry, Master!  Please, don’t!”

“Now, I’m not even sure how many swear words you uttered earlier,” Jensen says magnanimously. “So we’re going to start counting from here.  Do you have anything else to say?”

Jared bursts into tears.

Jensen can’t resist.  He drops the flogger and goes to stroke Jared’s face and hair soothingly.  Jared pushes his wet cheek into Jensen’s hand, sobbing like a child.

“I wanna go home.”

“Shh,” Jensen whispers. “Just be a good boy.  You were doing so well earlier.  Just be a good pet for me.”

“Don’t wanna. Please just let me go home.” Jared squeezes his eyes shut.

It’s a moment rife with conflict for Jensen.  Jared’s response, the tears and whining, the way he presses his face to Jensen, seeking reassurance, it’s impossibly hot. It’s everything that he’s ever wanted. But it also feels so real.  Too real.  Jensen never asked Jared for a safe word; he didn’t think he’d need one in a bought fantasy so catered to his desires.  Jensen knows this is just acting.  But the part of him that likes to praise and coddle as much as punish and torment, that part of him is ringing all sorts of alarm bells.

Jensen strokes Jared’s face and hair, waiting for him to calm down.  When Jared’s weeping turns to snuffles, Jensen moves to rise.  Jared whimpers, eyes popping open.

“Where are you going?”

“I’ll be right back,” Jensen soothes.

“Don’t.”

Jensen goes to the door and pushes the buzzer.  When Mark opens it, Jensen motions him back and steps into the hallway.

“Problem?” Mark asks.  Jensen pauses, then remembers to thumb his glasses up higher on his nose, to give a reassuring smile.

It’s the first time he’s put his professional mask back on since he entered the room with Jared.

“I just…this is intense.  And I know Jared knew what he was getting into but…does he have a safe word?  Can you…check on him?  I don’t know. I’m just a bit unsure.”

“I thought your fantasy was rape.”

“It is,” Jensen says angrily. “And I’m not too keen on reality intruding. I’ve been enjoying the scene.  But I just need some piece of mind.”

“His safe word is ‘payday’,” Mark says smoothly. “He and I have an agreement.  He says the word and I stop the scene.  He hasn’t said it yet.  Things are fine.”


	5. Chapter 5

Jared looks so pretty in the mask.  His eyes are as big as saucers and wet with fearful tears behind the plastic window.  His nostrils flair as he sucks in air, in anticipation of the privilege of breathing soon being revoked.  Jensen’s attached a bit of flexible tubing to the air intake with some tape; his thumb over the end of the tubing is all it takes to cut off Jared’s oxygen supply.

“You’re doing well,” Jensen approves. 

Jared shakes his head back and forth frantically, but he can’t dislodge the gas mask.  He had a panic attack the minute Jensen put the mask on him.  Jensen doesn’t mind waiting a few moments for Jared to acclimate to the mask’s alien feel; listening to the hurried rasp of Jared’s breath coming from the tubing tells Jensen all he needs to know.

“I’m not going to cut off your air, just yet,” Jensen promises.  He pulls the vibrator remote out of his pocket and thumbs the switch to a medium setting.

Jared’s hips jerk.  His stomach ripples as he rides the sensation, and Jensen watches his pet’s cock begin to swell again, until it’s almost pressed against his belly button.

“You know, I think you could come from this alone.  Ever have a prostate orgasm, Jared?”

Jared bucks and tosses his head, but that could mean anything.  Jensen ups the setting on the vibrator and watches Jared’s dick pulse against his belly, tip wet and dripping.  Jared’s hips pulse, rising and falling.  

Then Jared reaches out and presses his thumb over the end of the tubing.

Jared’s eyes go even more impossibly wide, and Jensen feels the pull on the skin of his thumb: Jared desperately trying and failing to suck in air from a closed source. 

Jared’s whole body goes rigid, then he comes hard, shooting great white spurts all over his stomach, his scream muffled by its cage of rubber and plastic.

Jensen lets his thumb off the tube, smiling.  He strokes Jared’s sweaty hair and listens to his urgent, noisy breathing through the tube.

“Good boy.  I knew you could do it.”

Jared squirms.  The vibrator is still buzzing discreetly; the stimulation must be irritating.

“I think you can go again,” Jensen says and then laughs as Jared shakes his head, tubing whipping around in his frenzy to protest. “As long as it takes, pet.”

It doesn’t take long for Jared’s arousal to ramp back up.  He’s a healthy, young man and his ass was clearly made to be stuffed and teased and toyed with.  Before long he’s humping the air again, big cock leaking on his stomach, tears in his eyes.

“Ready?” Jensen asks sadistically and Jared shakes his head no, of course he does, and Jensen takes the tip of the tubing and places it on Jared’s nipple.  Now Jared is trying to suck in air but what he’s really doing is sucking on his own nipple, creating pressure and pleasure for that sensitive little nub.

More muffled screaming as Jared comes again and this time Jensen leaves the tubing on his pet’s nipple, keeping the seal tight, until Jared’ ankles are twitching and the chains holding his legs are thrumming from his agitation.

“Good boy,” Jensen murmurs as he pulls off the mask quickly.  Soon his slave’s soft quivering mouth is revealed, gasping and sputtering. 

Jensen thumbs the vibrator down to the lowest setting.  He stands back and watches Jared, his fluttering lashes and his shaking muscles.  Jared opens his eyes and looks back at his tormentor, but there’s no fear or anger there.  Just a hazy acceptance of whatever his master will decide to do to him.  Jensen’s taken him far beyond himself; he’s floating.

“You did good, pet,” Jensen praises and something like a sad smile comes over Jared’s face.

Jensen removes the vibrator and drops his pants.  He doesn’t bother to slick his dick; there’s probably enough left for his comfort and he wants Jared to feel the burn.  He steps between Jared’s legs, lines up and thrusts in hard.

A frown appears between Jared’s eyebrows and he whimpers a bit, but his body remains loose, accepting.  Jensen sets a slow pace, drawing all the way out and then shoving himself deep, watching Jared’s body undulate at the sensation.

So much flesh, all his for the taking.  Jensen’s teeth and tongue travel across Jared’s skin.  He sucks and bites at Jared’s chest, reddening each nipple in turn.  Jared jerks and sighs at the sensation.

“So beautiful,” Jensen pants, reaching up to stroke Jared’s slack face.  This powerful male animal, his to command.  Stripped and restrained, tormented and pleasured, broken open and hollowed out.  Blank and accepting of whatever Jensen visits upon him.  His slave.

Jensen closes his eyes and comes hard.

 


	6. Chapter 6

Jensen doesn’t have to do the aftercare.  After all, he’s paying a fortune for this fantasy.  He could clean himself up and head out, maybe treat himself to a nice steak dinner, body buzzing with sated pleasure.  If he was really raping somebody, he wouldn’t stay and deal with the aftermath.

But Jensen likes the comfort that comes after the hurt.  And he wants to make sure Jared is all right.  He may be a paid actor, but the scene was intense.

And that he might have a tiny crush on the man responsible for fulfilling all his fantasies?  Well, so what.  If Jared’s amenable, maybe Jensen can hire him again.  Perhaps in an even more private setting. 

Jensen should make more time for himself after all.  This little vacation’s done wonders for him.

Jensen wipes Jared down with baby wipes, gently cleaning his messy face, his splattered stomach and the area between his legs.  He removes the restraints and smiles fondly as Jared immediately rolls on his side and into a ball, fitting his long frame on the bench’s narrow surface as best as he can.  Jensen covers his pet—no Jared, just Jared, not his any longer—with a blanket and tucks it in snugly.

There’s a knock at the door and Jensen frowns and moves to answer it.  Mark is standing there, smiling his salesman’s smile.

“We can take it from here,” Mark says.

“I’m not done,” Jensen says shortly.  And he closes the door in Mark’s face.

Jared is coming around, his eyes clearer, and his face more wary.  He shivers minutely under the blanket and Jensen wishes for a moment that he’d thought to ask for an electric one.  If he ever decides to splurge on this type of thing again, he has a few more ideas.

“It’s over,” Jensen says softly, and Jared’s eyes track immediately to his master’s face.  He doesn’t seem to realize the play is done. “You can go home.”

“Okay,” Jared rasps, voice nearly gone from screaming.

“Did you have a good time?” Jensen asks and then mentally kicks himself.  It doesn’t matter.  Jared’s getting paid.  This wasn’t a scene with a bonafide partner.  This was a rape fantasy. A business transaction.

Jared laughs mirthlessly.

“Listen, do you need anything?”

“A ride to the clinic and then the police station.”

Jensen stares. “What do you mean?”

“I’m pretty sure you came in my ass without a condom,” Jared whispers.

“Yes, of course, of course I did.  I submitted all the paperwork, the blood tests.  You know I’m clean.”

“Forgive me if I don’t take your word for it,” Jared says. “I’ve had kind of a shitty week.  I lose my bartending job, my apartment catches fire, I get kidnapped by some psychopaths, and some asshole with the face of an angel tortures and rapes me.”

Jensen stomps his foot in frustration and is nonplussed with Jared flinches at the sound.

“You can drop the act, Jared.  It’s over.  I mean, I appreciate you staying in character and all, but it’s over.  We’re done.  You did a great job acting scared and reluctant.”

Jared closes his eyes and shakes his head. “Fine.  Just walk me out, please.  I want to go.”

“Okay.  Listen, maybe I’m overstepping, but can I take you out for a coffee sometime?”

Jared snorts with laughter and it sounds bitter. “Are you…are you trying to hit on me?  After everything that happened?”

“I admit it’s unprofessional,” Jensen says defensively. “But I had a great time. The best time.  You were wonderful. Am I a monster for wanting to see you again?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Jared says softly. “It doesn’t matter what you made me like or what you got me to admit.  That if we’d met somewhere and I’d been crazy enough to agree to all this; it was the best sex of my life.  You raped me.  Don’t you get it?”

Another knock at the door.  Jensen leaves Jared struggling into a seated position and answers it.

“We can really take it from here,” Mark says urgently.

“I’m walking Jared out,” Jensen says. “Can you bring a set of clothes and his belongings?  He still seems to be in character.”

Mark smiles faintly. “He’s not going anywhere.”

“What do you mean?” Jensen says frowning.

“You think you’re the only rich yuppie bastard with a taste for rape?” Mark asks. “You may be one of the most creative perverts we’ve had as a client, but you’re not unique. We’ve got a long line of clients for Jared to take on.”

“He’s here against his will,” Jensen says slowly.

“He is.  But I think you might of suspected that.”

“He did seem a little too good to be true. You’re planning to keep him here?”

“The perfect abduction victim doesn’t come along often,” Mark says. “And Jared pissed off the wrong people, reporting to his boss that my sister’s son was stealing from the till.  Unlucky for him, his boss is my brother-in-law.”

“And what’s to stop me from going to the police?” Jensen asks, because that seems to be the most logical next question.

“You can do that if you want,” Mark says smugly. “And go to prison yourself as an accomplice.  Of course, you’d never make it out the door.  If you’ve done any research before throwing yourself this little sex party then you know exactly who we are. You should play nice.  If you play nice, you can come back here and have a session with Jared any time you wish.  For a discounted price of course.”

Jensen looks down and takes off his glasses, then smiles coldly. “I have a better idea.”


	7. Chapter 7

Jared sits, naked, shivering on the bench.  This has truly been the worst night of his life.  And as afraid as he is of the nameless man—Master—who has spent hours torturing him, he’s more afraid of Mark.

Mark and his lackeys, who waltzed Jared right off the street at gun point, telling him he was going to pay, and for a long time, too.

The blond man with the almost too pretty features seems to think he can let Jared out.  Jared’s all too terrified that his freedom just isn’t going to happen.

The door opens and Master comes back in, a bundle of clothes in his arms. “Put these on.”

Jared gratefully shrugs on a t-shirt and sweat pants, both a little short on him.  He catches his tormentor staring at his bare feet and exposed belly and incredibly blushes.

“Here.” The man tosses him a water bottle.  Jared takes a swig gratefully, water cooling his raw throat.

“We should go,” the man says and Jared hesitates.  He’s free and he has several inches on this stranger, as well as more muscle.  Chances are he can overpower the man and make a rush to the exit.

But his throat aches.  His ass is throbbing and even walking is difficult.  Every joint is strained by the bounds he struggled against.  He’s not at his physical best. 

And Mark might be unwilling to let him go.

“Okay,” Jared says.

He follows the man out into the hallway and then through the heavy security door into the reception room.  Neither Mark or his underlings seem to be about, but the air smells strangely of copper.

Outside, the night is fresh and the occasional drop of rain spatters on Jared’s cheek.  He sucks in air, as much air as he can, and smiles.

His blond tormentor/savior gestures towards a sleek black sports car. “Get in.”

“I can take it from here.”

“You don’t have any shoes on.  Don’t be stupid, get in.”

If Jared does so, it’s because it makes sense.  The ground in this part of town is littered with glass and rusted metal.  It’s not because Master gave an order.

Jared climbs into the smooth leather seat and winces.  He secures his seat belt and watches out the window as the featureless industrial building fades around the corner.

Gratitude wells in his chest, but there’s no way he’s thanking his rapist.

“Can you drop me at the E.R.?” Jared asks.  None of his injuries are that bad, but he’d like an S.T.D. test all the same.  He yawns and sucks on his water bottle, eyelids heavy.

“We both made some mistakes tonight,” Master says.

“Some of us more than others,” Jared retorts quietly.

“Yes, you’re mistake was pissing off Mark Pellegrino, one of the scions of the Pellegrino crime family.  My mistake was killing him.”

Jared tries to pay attention, to struggle up straighter in his seat, but his body is so heavy.  Alarm bells are going off, but they seem distant and muzzy.  He’s going to lose consciousness.   The water bottle falls from his hand and spills in slow motion onto the carpeted floor.

“Did…did you…?”

“Drug the water.  Yes.  I’ve been thinking.  I need to spend a little more time on myself.  Take a few more vacation days.  Lord knows I’ve earned them.   So I’ve decided to bring myself home a present.  Something no one will miss.”

“Who…who…are you?”

“A contract killer in town for some R & R,” Master says. “And Mark was definitely not on my list. Now I have quite a few feathers to smooth over.  Oh well, it’s no matter.  I knew this fantasy was going to be expensive.”


End file.
